Untitled Post Ahn Fluff
by yankee306
Summary: I'm stuck on part 2 of my longer story and I won't be able to see the new episode until tomorrow, so here's some post-Ahn fluff for you.


Mary sat alone in her yard. She had forced herself to smile through dinner with Raph, Brandi, and Jinx. She had managed to avoid picking a fight with Raph when he announced more plans he had made for them both—to install shelves in the living room when he was finished fixing the mess the FBI had left behind, to refine the household budget he'd made to include the income from his new job as a car salesman, to . . . . by that point, Mary had stopped listening.

Now that she was alone, she allowed the thoughts that she had pushed just out of reach all evening to come forward.

She let her mind return to earlier today when Marshall had handed her back her engagement ring. As she took it from his hand, she had felt a flash of . . . _something_ between them.

Just for a moment, she had wondered, what if it had been Marshall who had given her the ring instead of Raph?

It would have been entirely different, of course. Marshall would have asked her how she felt about the idea of getting engaged before he did anything as presumptuous as buying her a ring. They would have talked about it at length. He would have asked her if she wanted a ring at all. If she did, he would have found a ring appropriate for both her job and her personality, a simple band with no huge setting to get the way of her gun or jammed between her fingers in a fight.

It would have felt entirely different, too. Accepting Raph's proposal been impulsive, almost frantic. She had been desperate to believe that she wouldn't be haunted by her father's abandonment for her whole damn life, that she wasn't irreparably damaged. If a normal relationship were possible at all for her, why not with this kind, decent man, who had been raised by a lovely mother who believed in family and commitment the way that Mary did?

But with Marshall . . . her stomach fluttered as she allowed herself to imagine that Marshall had not simply handed her the ring today but had held her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. She imagined herself returning the gesture in a later ceremony, sliding a ring onto his finger. Not the ridiculous, gaudy thing that had been stuck there, of course, but a plain gold band to match hers.

To seal their partnership. To promise to be together for the rest of their lives. Marshall had already promised her that, and he always kept his promises. He wouldn't leave her unless she made him. Could she make the same promise? She couldn't make it to Raph, that much was becoming clear to her. In a way, hadn't she already made her own promise to Marshall? She had asked him, demanded, really, that he make a vow of permanence to her. Her demand seemed awfully close to being the same vow.

Why did Raph want to make that vow to her? What did he love about her anyway? Why on earth would he want to spend his life with someone he saw as the most difficult woman in the world? He was always trying to talk her out of being difficult. He demanded that she give him equal say in the relationship—which was entirely reasonable, of course. But she didn't want him to have an equal say. She didn't trust that any of his decisions would work for her. How could they? He didn't understand her. Marshall understood her. Marshall trusted her, and she him.

And Marshall loved her. Mary wasn't _entirely_ oblivious. She had seen his reaction when he found out she was engaged, as much as he tried to hide it. She had heard his toast to her, his _real_ toast. And she had seen him sitting during the party, rubbing the spot on his finger where Mary's ring had been stuck, watching her and trying not to watch her at the same time.

Her mind went around and around, question after question. The answer to every important one was the same: Marshall. Mary and Marshall.

"Enough," Mary said out loud. She didn't feel impulsive or frantic. She felt decisive and calm, for the first time in a long time. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial as she walked toward her car.

"What's up, Mare?"

"I—where are you?"

"At home. What's wrong?" Marshall sounded worried.

"Nothing. Can I come over?"

"Of course, but what for?"

"Just wait. I'll be there in 15." With that, Mary was down the driveway and speeding toward Marshall's house. She'd talk to Raph later. She had left Marshall in limbo for long enough.

Marshall was standing in the open door when she pulled up, waiting for her. He walked toward her as she climbed out of her car and they met halfway, on the flagstone path.

"What's going on, Mare?" asked Marshall, still a little concerned.

"I just figured something out."

"OK. And that is . . . ?"

"I don't want any damn ring from Raph. If anyone's going to give me a ring, I want it to be you."

"Mary, I—I . . . ." Marshall's jaw hung open, neither his mouth nor his brain able to form coherent words.

She smiled at him. "Close your mouth, Marshall, you're going to catch flies in there. On second thought, don't." She reached up, one hand behind Marshall's head, the other behind his neck, and pulled his mouth to hers. The kiss was long and slow. Marshall wound his arms around Mary and held onto her like she might slip away.

After a second, an eternity, Marshall pulled his head back and was able to find his voice. "I love you, Mary."

"You said that once today already. I was listening."

"I'm also suddenly aware that we're standing in my front yard, smack underneath a light. C'mon." Marshall held out his left hand. Mary took it and followed him into the house.

_**Fin. **_


End file.
